


Coming Home

by magos186



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Love, Dead Jessica Moore, Episode: S1e1 - Pilot, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-10
Updated: 2008-09-10
Packaged: 2019-01-22 22:53:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12492648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magos186/pseuds/magos186
Summary: My version of what happened after the fire in Sam's apartment at the end of the pilot.





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> This was written after watching the s2 episode Roadkill. It was probably written in 2007, but I used the date I posted it on my livejournal. Minor edits from the original post there.

It had been two days since the fire. The fire department had called to notify Sam that a small portion of the apartment hadn’t been damaged and was structurally sound. With the funeral only a day away, Dean knew there was no way his little brother could survive seeing the apartment again and handle burying her, so he decided he’d go. He drove the eerily empty, yet familiar streets and pulled up to the apartment, much like he had that night. He parked across the street and entered the building. The damage was not visible from the outside. When he got inside, he could still feel the flames, hear Sam’s screams. So much of the apartment had been destroyed and was now ash. The dark floor creaked beneath his weight as Dean made his way towards the back. Just off the kitchen, far away from the bedroom resided the laundry room. It was the only room that remained intact. Not one inch of it had been tarnished by the evil flames. An empty white basket sat atop the navy blue dryer and a closed laptop, which he immediately recognized as his brother’s, was perched on the washer. He opened the dryer to find his brother’s laundry inside. He carefully removed and folded every item, placing them temporarily in the basket. When he finished, he noticed a black suit in the corner, hanging on a closet door. The dry cleaning tag was still attached. "That must have been for the interview," Dean said to the empty room. He opened the closet in hopes of finding duffel, but found Sam’s book bag hanging on the inner door hook, a vacuum, mop and bucket, and a blanket thrown in the corner. Squatting down, he pulled out the blanket, revealing a large shoebox which housed over a hundred white envelopes. Each one had only the date on the front, starting with the day after John kicked Sam out. None of the envelopes were sealed and curiosity finally got the best of Dean. He moved the laptop into the laundry basket and sat on the washer, the box next to him. He pulled out the earliest dated envelope and began to read. Shock filled his face as he read at the words.

_Dean,_  
_I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. Dad was just being so pig-headed about me going. I know you just want me to be happy and for me, happiness means being with you. Yeah, that sounds girly, but you’re my big brother. I can’t remember a day when we weren’t together…or at least when we didn’t talk. By now you know that I’m at Pastor Jim’s, but you haven’t called me. Maybe you just think I need some space. Maybe you think I’m mad at you too. I’m not. I could never be… I know you support my decision to go to college and stop hunting. You never wanted the life of a hunter for me. You kept me shielded from it for as long as you could and when you couldn’t, you always protected me. It’s just not in me to do this job forever. Dad’s obsession is what drives him and your need to prove yourself to dad drives you. The only thing that has ever motivated me was you._ Dean could feel his heart begin to break as he continued to read. _You always made sure I did well in school, did my homework, helped me study, which I always found funny because you never liked school. I doubt you ever paid attention, but you were always right there to help me. I wish you could do that now. I wish you could just leave dad and come with me, but I would never ask you to make that choice. You’re dad’s son and I’m yours. It’s not fair to make you choose between us and what’s even worse is that dad did it for you. I hope that one day you can free yourself from whatever hold he has on you and come back for me. It’s only been one day, but I miss you already._

_Dean, I know you’re probably pissed that I’m gone. I’m sure most of that anger is aimed at dad, but if you’re mad at me too then I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you and I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted to be away from you and I’m sure you feel the same, not that you’ll ever admit it. Anyway, I’m staying with Jim until school starts next week. I hope that you call or come see me, but I doubt you will. So until we talk again, I’m just going to write you a letter every week. Maybe one day I’ll give them to you, but until then I’m sorry and I love you. --Sammy_

When Dean finished the letter, he was struggling not to cry. The day Sam left had nearly killed him…and he nearly killed John. Now he knew his brother never wanted to leave him. He was filled with such happiness and such guilt at the same time. Sam thought Dean was mad at him. The funny thing is Dean was only ever mad at their father. He could never be angry with his little brother. It was just…after the fight, he was so broken. He couldn’t be sure how Sam felt and he thought it would be easier for both of them if he stayed away. Apparently he was wrong. He carefully placed the letter back in the envelope and pulled out the next one.

_Dean,_  
_I got to Stanford yesterday and figured I should tell you all about it. Actually, I want to call you. I want to hear your steady voice assuring me that I’m doing the right thing. You taught me to always do what I thought was right, but I just feel so lonely here. All these kid were being dropped off by their families and it made me really miss you. Us not talking is killing me. I never realized how empty I felt without you. Funny thing is I don’t miss dad. He was never around enough for me to know what it was like being with him all the time. But you…you were always there. You were always the center of my world and you probably always will be. This place is so big and there are so many people, but I’m so alone. I really wish I had my big brother._

_My roommate seems nice. His name is Zack and he’s a year older. His sister Becky is a freshman too. I met her this morning. They do seem like a nice pair of people…especially Zack. I couldn’t sleep last night, so he stayed up with me for a while and we talked. He thought it was really sweet how much I talked about you. He said he wished he was as close to his sister as we are. I wish we were as normal as he and his sister are. Anyway…he finally fell asleep around two. I just laid in my bed, staring at the ceiling. I guess it’s just hard to sleep without you across the room humming or moving around or even breathing. I mean sure I can hear Zack breathing and moving around but it’s not the same. I never felt relaxed or comforted by his breath. Well I should probably go. Becky wants me to go to orientation with her. I’ll write you another letter next week and let you know how I’m doing. I hope you’re doing well. Please don’t hunt anything too dangerous. I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt. I love you. –Sammy._

A lump began to form in Dean’s throat. He knew what would be mentioned in the next letter. He just didn’t know if when he read about it, he could keep himself from crying, but he had to find out. With shaky hands, he pulled out the next letter.

_Dean,_  
_You are the best brother ever. I don’t think I’ve ever said that, but you are. I was having a really bad day. It had been a while since I got more than a few hours of sleep and according to Zack I looked like hell. Then I got back to my room and found a cassette tape sitting on my desk. Zack said he didn’t know how it got there. I borrowed his radio and played the tape. An hour in and I was sleeping like a baby. I don’t know how you knew and I don’t know how to thank you, but it means so much that you would do that for me. Maybe you’re having trouble sleeping too. I hope not. I hope you don’t look over in the middle of the night and miss seeing me huddled under the blankets or miss me screaming your name out from a nightmare or miss me breathing. Maybe I could make you a tape…but just like these letters, I wouldn’t know where to send it. I could always leave it with Bobby or Pastor Jim or Caleb. Then again, you’re not living alone so you wouldn’t be able to listen to it. Please don’t have trouble sleeping. You need to be well rested when you hunt or you could get hurt. I totally sound like I’m ten again don’t I? Anyway, thanks again for the tape. Be careful. I love you.—Sammy_

Okay, now he was crying. How could he not be? The past few years he’d come to grips with the fact that his brother hadn’t needed him. Sam had been fine on his own. But these letters proved just how wrong he was. He remembered making the tape. He’d done it one night when John wasn’t around. He’d placed a tape recorder next to the bed when he fell asleep, recording nothing but his breathing as he slept. Then he’d transferred that to a cassette tape, but the first thing on the tape was Metallica’s "Nothing Else Matters." It was the song he used to hum to his brother when Sam couldn’t sleep. Granted Sam was eight when the song came out, but the lyrics seemed true enough to the relationship the boys shared. Besides, before that, Sam never needed humming. All it took for him to fall asleep when he was scared was the sound of Dean’s heart beating steady and slow beneath his head as he laid on his older brother’s chest. Suddenly it hit Dean; back then he knew how to comfort Sam. Hum him a song, let him fall asleep in the arms of his big brother, but now…Dean had no idea how to help him. Nothing like this had ever happened. Their father was the only one who could possibly understand what Sam was going through but where was he? All their lives John had never once been there for his youngest son. That job always fell to Dean. Now it was his job all over again and he could only pray that he’d be able to help Sam.

Dean sat on that washer for hours, reading every letter his brother had written him over the past few years. Some made him laugh, some made him cry; some made him so proud of the boy he’d raised. Sam told him everything in those pages, every detail of his life, but no matter what he was writing about, they always ended with "Be careful. I love you. Sammy." When he finally reached the final envelope, he took a deep breath. The date on the envelope was the day he went to Stanford for his brother. Releasing the breath after a minute, he unfolded the paper, unsure of what lie in wait. He took another deep breath and began to read.

_Dean,_  
_It’s Halloween. Jess is dragging me out to a party tonight. I really hate this day and not just because it reminds me of all the things we’ve hunted. It reminds me of the fact that I haven’t seen you in so long. People dress like ghosts and witches and demons, but all I see is a reminder of what’s missing in my life. I mean, yeah I have Jess, but I don’t have my brother and I really wish you were here. I haven’t been sleeping well. I even pulled out that tape you made me and tried it, and while it did calm me down, I still can’t sleep. I think Jess is starting to get worried. She’s probably hoping this party will cheer me up or that she’ll be able to get me drunk enough to pass out. I don’t know. I think you’d really like her. There’s something about her that I want to tell you, but not yet. I don’t want to jinx it and I don’t want her to know. She saw me writing to you the other day and read the letter, which is probably why I’m sitting on the bathroom floor writing this. She thinks I’m taking a shower. She asked me why we don’t talk…why I don’t mail you the letters I write. First off, I wouldn’t know where to send them. I could always give them to Pastor Jim or just friggen call you, but I’m still not sure you even want to talk to me. Plus there’s always the chance that you’re hunting and if I call it’ll get you hurt and I won’t risk it._

_I really think you’ll like Jess. She’s a great girl. Of course you probably won’t see past her pretty face, but she has a good heart. She’s tried really hard to fill the hole inside me you left. I don’t know what I’d do without her. I hope I never have to find out._

_So…I have an interview in a couple of days for law school. I did really well on that test I mentioned a while back and if the interview goes okay I might actually get a full ride. I’m doing my best to make you proud, even if you don’t know it. Anyway, I actually do have to shower so I should get moving. I miss you and I hope you’re all right._  
_Be careful. I love you._  
_–Sammy._  
_p.s. I’ll make sure to have a shot just for you._

For the first time in his life, Dean Winchester was actually flabbergasted. The letter in his trembling hands was written no more than five days ago. He wished he’d known all this years ago. Maybe then he would have left his father, or found a way to stay in touch with his brother without their father ever knowing. It was clear that Sam never stopped needing his big brother. He’d just admitted it. Dean had never felt so…wanted…so loved…at least not since Sam was a kid. He needed to get back, needed to see Sam. He quickly packed all the clothes into the book bag, stuck the laptop in its bag, and carried the printer and suit out to the car. He gently tossed everything in the trunk, laying the suit across the back seat and sped back to the motel. When he got there, he found Sam curled up on his side on Dean’s bed, his back to the door, his arms wrapped around Dean’s pillow. The older man closed and locked the door, dropped his jacket on a chair, toed off his shoes and laid down behind his little brother, wrapping his arms tight around the younger man. "It’s gonna be okay baby boy. I’m here now and I’m never letting you go again. I love you Sammy. We’re gonna get through this together. Everything’s gonna be okay. I promise


End file.
